If you start using the potty, I'll laugh at your poo with you.

Scrubbing poo out of the carpet before breakfast is not the best marker of a good day. That's OK. I'm keeping my eyes on the Prize.  We are planning our escape to an undisclosed location *.* at an undisclosed time. Having bumbled through the morning with my free-day-at-the-children's-museum virus, I put the kids down for a nap. Tip-toeing to the toaster (sing that in a squeaky voice), with my non-napping baby in one arm, I almost wish someone was witness to my deftness as I yank the toaster lever up, sending my horribly wonderful toaster pastry prize into the sky, high enough for me to snatch it with the same hand. Mmm. The only thing more rewarding than evil treats is managing to gobble them without the boys noticing.

Junk-snacking is not a great idea. This bug already botched my new workout routine after only one trip to the gym! I figured I'd be nice and not share our boogers with them. Interestingly, it seems the last time I had a bug was also the last time I blogged. I'll try not to make that a habit. I've also been "partying" with an over-clocked thyroid, which doesn't make me the friendliest mama on the block, and...also has me constantly seeking a sugar fix.  Oh leetle vacation, where are youuu?

If anyone is keeping a list of things moms/wives don't care to hear, I have a few you can add.  They range in severity from "*sigh*" to "OMG I don't ever want to hear that again."

1. Toddler saying: Mooooooom! Change me! Change me! (accompanied by a squishy trail of special effects)
2. Husband saying: Your toothbrush is awesome!
3. Toddler saying: Dad! Let's play poop! (proceeds to crawl between dad's legs, saying "poooo-oop!")
4. Toddler in bath hollering to me in next room: He he he! I'm tickling myself mom!
5. Toddler to dad: Take! I taked your penis and now you have a 'gina! (I think we're a little obsessed with "down there" right now)
6. Pre-schooler saying proudly: Look! I made a golf club. (holding up carefully torn page from a book)

So the other day, my sweet love sent me a business-romantic meeting request for a 7-hour "special event" that requires a sitter. I don't really care at this point if it's grocery shopping. He's made it so...intriguing, so...mysterious. I'm ready to grab my cart and go! Actually, he's a great "picker", so I know it will be cool.

Guess I'll go Neti the Drooling Yeti (i.e. irrigate my sinuses).

This week has been a blast

Spring is here and the diapers haven't even melted yet. Every morning I've been playing Waffle House with my new cast iron two-burner griddle. The item apparently on the boys' menu is pancakes. I mixed it up one day and made them SpongeBob Eggs.

Isaac ate his right up, but Ian only wanted to talk to his. I finally cut it into pieces and said it was a Sponge Bob puzzle for his belly to do.


Elijah had his PET/CT scans last Tuesday. They looked quite clear and he will start his maintenance course of chemo on next Tuesday - yay!  That means we have to go up only once every 3 weeks.


I'm a million years behind on my documentation, so here is a quick run-down of items for the personal archives - no story line, no fancy transitions - nothing.


One day, I hear from the shower, "Bong! Bong!" "Ouch, Ian! That's not a bell!!"  I'll let your imagination fill in the details.


Ian has the most adorable new word.  I'll use it in a sentence.  "Ian, where are your shoes?" "I don't underknow." He does have a way of phrasing things quite effectively. We've had the pleasure of entertaining a stomach virus at our house this week. Ian told me his tummy hurt. I asked him if it hurt like he had to poop. He laid on the floor and said, "It hurts like I want to lay right here until I get up." That's pretty much exactly my sentiment.


I taught Ian about Elijah's soft spot on his head. I described that it is a place on his head that has no bone yet. When Brian came home,  Ian said, "Elijah doesn't have any bones there. I gived him one of my bones so he could be safe."


While playing outside one evening, Isaac looked up at the crescent in the sky and exclaimed, "The moon is chomped!"


Ian likes to make random announcements to invisible spectators. One time while playing blocks with him, Ian stood up and faced his audience saying, "Hi, my name is Ian. I'm building a tower and this (motioning) is my best friend, Mom."


While on a walk, we acknowledged Ian's friendly gesture of waving to a passing car. He said, "I was a gentleman!"


Actual Seuss line: This one I think is called a Yink. He likes to wink. He likes to drink. Ian's version: ...he likes to drink and have fun with the guys.


Ian coughed & said. "I'm ok." He coughed again and said, "I'm ok again." He coughed a third time & said, "I'm ok a six time."


I'm really anxious for Isaac to decide to potty train. Every so often I bring up the subject. During a really messy change, I asked Isaac, "Would you like to try using the potty? Having poop in your diaper must feel so uncomfortable." "No." "What if I got you a little potty just your size?" "No." "We have a little green potty and a little white potty with stickers!" "(pointing to the supplies) Get mine clean diaper!"


One time Ian inspected Elijah's toes and kissed his head and hugged his belly and said "I'm just right for him." And, he sure is! He adores his baby brother and takes the best care of him.


I think that about covers it.


Brian's dad has had the enjoyment of rolling into town during our "potty relay" week. We're probably loads of fun, but I'm sure glad he's here! He's keeping the boys alive while I lie curled up in bed, trying to contain my innards. When the big boys woke up yesterday, I told Ian to go find Grandpa and he'd make them breakfast. Ian replied, "No, I'll find you and you'll make me breakfast."  I tried to remind him that Grandpa loves cooking and, "he'll make it just like you like it." "No, he won't!" Ian protested. "He'll make it too spicy!" Later in the kitchen, Ian was still not convinced, as Grandpa started some pancakes. "Look, Grandpa is making you tasty pancakes!" "No! He'll make them crunchy!" I'm not sure why that would be a problem. As I mentioned in a previous post, he seems to have a taste for blackened pancakes.


The three oldest men in the house have gone off in search of Pedialyte and Preggie Pops, two delicacies for our nauseous, dehydrated selves to enjoy. I was going to nap with Isaac and Elijah, but Elijah decided I would stay up. Ahh, the best-laid plans. 

The De-Evolution of a Mother

I began motherhood as a complex organism that required people to decontaminate before holding my firstborn.  Food fallen to the floor may as well already be harboring maggots.  (Eww. did I just say that?)  When I finally consented to let him in the same zip code as another child, I was Mama Bear on a hair-trigger, but it turned out other kids don't actually tend to hit babies.

Then came boy number two.  Ian was remarkably civil with baby Isaac, probably because he hadn't lost property rights to "his" breast.  I did call the doctor the first time they 'bonked' heads, but things were loosening up.  I let my guard down just enough to not stop Ian from placing a raisin in Isaac's mouth, but applauded myself for rescuing my infant from certain demise.  The next day, I discovered I had excised the second raisin.

I began to realize how futile it was to keep my youngest sterile with such a quick and creative older brother.  Then once Isaac was mobile, they'd collaborate on all things messy.  One mind-melting day, I de-evolved to "not seeing" the two of them slurping Jell-O off the kitchen floor and, later,  letting Isaac continue yelling from underneath Ian just to "see where it would go."  For the record, Isaac can throw a mean one-two combo of elbow-to-chin and head-butt.  At the pinnacle of insanity and fluster-ation, I actually barked at Ian, "Give Isaac back the knife!" just moments before I caught up with reality and disarmed them.  These days, I try to provide them wise instruction on the meaning and responsibilities of family, but, really, how much cuter could a toddler spat be, with two boy cubs batting and bopping at each other to no effect?

Number three is on the way, and I don't even want to know to what depths I will sink...